


Eating Cheese Before You Sleep Will Give You Nightmares

by charmingStrangeness



Category: Gintama
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Violence, Yorozuya Family, doromizu jirochou - Freeform, jiraia | tobita danzo - Freeform, kawakami bansai - Freeform, obi hajime - Freeform, okada nizou - Freeform, yoshida shouyou - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2018-10-28 12:16:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10831098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmingStrangeness/pseuds/charmingStrangeness
Summary: In which certain fights come back to haunt Gintoki, and Shinpachi and Kagura are more observant than he wants them to be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i decided to watch gintama back at the end of march and within episodes i was dying to write some goofy, comedic adventure for the yorozuya family. i still haven't come up with an idea for that, but i did get vaguely inspired to write some angsty nightmare fic bullshit instead, so here we are. whoops??
> 
> i'm on the fence over whether this deserves the 'graphic depictions of violence' tag or not so i settled on using the ambiguous 'chose not to use warnings', sorry...... personally i don't think my descriptions are particularly graphic, but the implied violence that occurs definitely is, but also gintama has its fair share of violence so i mean. *shrugs*

He’s standing in the graveyard in the pouring rain, and the sight of blood, _her_ blood, seeping into the ground burns itself into Gintoki’s vision. He leaps at his enemy, but the old man blocks him in the nick of time.

“Not bad, kid. You made me draw my sword.”

Gintoki's anger is scalding, and it shows in his swordsmanship – where his style is normally fluid, it becomes instead ruthlessly offensive, and Jirochou stumbles back under the barrage of attacks. He quickly regains his balance, though, and a solid strike of his katana leaves Gintoki reeling as his bokken explodes into shrapnel.

The old man smirks. “It’s over.”

Gintoki responds to the blow without missing a beat; he snatches a fragment of wood out of the air and plunges it into Jirochou’s shoulder.

_It’s not over yet, you bastard._

At least, that’s how it’s supposed to go – time slows to a near standstill as the fractured wood makes contact with the Jirochou’s skin, but instead of embedding itself into his flesh, his hands are shoving into Gintoki’s chest, sending him flying backwards into a gravestone. Alarm bells sound in the back of Gintoki’s mind; something about this situation isn’t _right_. He pushes himself up off the ground, still clutching the broken piece of his demolished wooden sword, and makes to leap forward for a another shot, but his muscles won’t respond – his calves twitch uselessly, frozen in place, and Jirochou is bearing down on him all the while. Panic floods Gintoki’s body, and he wills his limbs to _move_ , damnit, but it’s too late; Jirochou’s katana connects with his right shoulder, and that fragment of his bokken is rolling across the ground now, rolling away from his open palm where it lays in the dirt along with the remainder of Gintoki’s arm.

_No, no, no, this isn’t right, this isn’t what’s supposed to happen—_

“If your limbs won’t obey you, then you don’t deserve them.” Jirochou’s katana flashes again, this time on Gintoki’s left side. He drops to his knees. Two more slices and Gintoki is on his stomach.

“I told you already, your job is over.” The buildings that rise up on both sides of the street stare down on GIntoki with impassive gazes from windows like empty eyes; they loom over him and Gintoki feels _trapped_. If only there was someone to save him… He turns his head frantically, searching the street for any sign of life – there! Behind Jirochou, there are people gathering! Gintoki opens his mouth to call out for help, takes a deep breath, but his airways feel heavy, the air feels dense, like he’s breathing molasses instead of oxygen, and he can’t make a single sound.

Jirochou throws back his head and cackles, then looks down on Gintoki with a devilish grin. Behind him, the growing crowd of Kabuki-chou residents all wear matching demonic expressions. A shiver of goosebumps washes up Gintoki’s spine.

“There’s nothing left here for you to protect.” Jirochou raises his katana high above his head. “You’re of no use to anyone anymore.” He swings his arms downward, and the blade connects with Gintoki’s neck—

—and Gintoki shoots upward into a sitting position, gasping for air. The first thing he’s conscious of is the wild beating of his heart paired with the anxious rush of adrenaline through his body. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around his chest and curls in on himself before suddenly noticing that his arms are still very much attached to the rest of his body. This, in turn, makes him suddenly aware of his legs, also attached, and the comforting weight of blankets pressing down on them, as well as the softness of the futon beneath him. His heartbeat slows, he unclenches his fists, and his eyes slowly adjust to the darkness of his unlit bedroom. Carefully, Gintoki reaches up and runs a hand around his neck – but there are no cuts, no injuries, only unbroken skin.

_Just a dream._

Flopping onto his side, he burrows into his blankets the best he can and stares balefully at the base of the wall across the room. Gintoki is no stranger to nightmares, but this… He squeezes his eyes shut and prays that all of this will be forgotten come morning. 

 

* * *

 

The doorbell rings, and, after a pause, rings again.

Gintoki frowns. “Someone go answer the door.”

“You do it, it’s your house,” Kagura counters.

Gintoki rolls onto his side so he’s facing the back of the couch. “No, _you_ do it. I’m tired today.”

“You say that every day, Gin-san. We know you’re just being lazy,” Shinpachi admonishes.

“That’s not fair, I’m seriously tired today!” Gintoki whines. The mystery visitor gives up on the doorbell and starts to knock. Gintoki turns his head to look over his shoulder, trying to muster as pitiable an expression as possible. “I didn’t sleep very well last night.”

Kagura rolls her eyes. “What, were you having nightmares? At your age?”

Gintoki’s stomach lurches as a series of images suddenly flashes through his mind – blood mixing with rain in the dirt, his own dismembered arm, a katana whizzing towards his neck. Daylight had mostly cleared the dream from Gintoki’s mind, but the mention of nightmares is bringing it back full force. Gintoki winces, and quickly turns back around to face the couch.

(As such, he misses the puzzled look that Kagura and Shinpachi share.)

“Gin-san…?”

The knocking on the door escalates to pounding. “Coming!!” Shinpachi calls out, and Gintoki hears a slight rustle as the boy stands and hurries to the entrance.

There’s a second rustle as Kagura stands, and suddenly there’s a hand ruffling his hair none too gently.

“Gin-chan, if you're too tired to work today, that’s fine! Shinpachi and I will handle it. Just don’t complain when we don’t share any of the payment with you.” Gintoki can hear the shit-eating grin she’s surely wearing right now, and a smile twitches at his own lips.

“Leave me alone, brat. Can’t you tell I’m trying to sleep here?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any lingering questions or thoughts? leave a comment below, or come visit my writig sideblog @[charmingstrangeness](http://charmingstrangeness.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd abandoned my original idea to write several days' worth of nightmares and now i've changed my mind again so this oneshot is now expanding into a multi-chapter, mostly because i want to practice writing more surreal dream stuff
> 
> i'm breaking my personal rule of writing the whole story before posting for multichaps so idk how often i'll update this or if i'll start including more plot or when it will even end so.... ???? come join me on this adventure of writing mildly violent and angsty dream bullshit, i guess

The pulsing crimson light of Benizakura mingles with the light from the full moon, illuminating the positively diabolical smile that adorns Nizou’s face as he jumps down through the hole in the bridge. Water splashes when he lands, and Gintoki uses the cover to dodge behind his opponent for a surprise attack. A swift kick brings Nizou onto his back, and Gintoki steps onto his shoulder and raises his bokken high above his head.

“Fights aren’t only won with swords!” 

Tendrils shoot out from the demon sword, securing Gintoki’s arms in place before he can take a swing at Nizou’s head. He gasps in surprise.

“This isn’t a fight,” Nizou counters as he pushes Gintoki off of him and stands. “It’s a battle to the death.” 

And then Nizou is _right there_ , slashing at Gintoki with Benizakura, and it’s all Gintoki can do to block the attack in time. Their weapons collide, and Gintoki’s bokutou shatters as he’s thrown back against the stone blocks of the bridge support. 

_That strength isn’t human,_  he manages to think, and then a single slash of Benizakura cuts open his chest. He barely has time to process that that’s his blood staining the creek red when a second attack drives the demon sword directly through his stomach.

It’s okay, though; Gintoki knows that Shinpachi is on the bridge, watching. He just has to wait it out, and believe. Nizou is speaking – something about how pathetic the samurai from this country are – but only every other word actually registers in Gintoki’s brain. _Come on, Shinpachi. Take him down for me.  
_

“Your sword is broken. You’re no longer a samurai.”

Gintoki grits his teeth. _Soon._

“Weak samurai should disappear from this country.” 

Benizakura’s crimson blade cuts into Gintoki’s hands as he grabs hold of it in an effort to prevent Nizou from pulling it back out of his body. 

“My sword is broken? I still have a sword.” _Shinpachi, now!_ “One more sword, just in case.” 

Nizou laughs. “Do you now?” In one swift movement, he yanks Benizakura out of Gintoki’s stomach, and a startled scream rips from Gintoki’s throat as the sword bites into his palms. The water between them darkens further.

_Shinpachi, where are you?_

“I don’t see any backup swords here. Maybe you should have tried harder to take care of them.” 

Ice cold fear seizes Gintoki’s heart. _No, no!_ He collapses to his knees. In the corner of his eye, he spots a flash of crimson, and Benizakura is swinging towards him—

Gintoki's eyes snap open. 

There’s no demon sword coming for his head, and no Nizou the Butcher towering over him, laughing. It was all just a dream – an especially _vivid_ dream, again. Gintoki rolls over onto his side and waits for the adrenaline to drain from his system. At least coming to didn’t take as long tonight; he’s always hated that surreal moment between waking up from a nightmare and actually realizing you’re awake more than anything else. 

_Maybe that’s the one positive thing about having nightmares two nights in a row,_ he muses before dozing off again.

 

* * *

 

Gintoki yawns and glances at the clock on the wall. He frowns.

“Oi, Kagura.” 

“Hm?” 

“Where’s Shinpachi? It’s already mid-morning.” 

“I dunno. Maybe he finally decided he’s tired of working for a good-for-nothing samurai who doesn’t pay his employees.” Kagura unceremoniously digs a finger into her nostril.

Gintoki scowls and opens his mouth to deliver a scathing retort, but he’s interrupted by the front door sliding open and shut.

“I’m here!” A familiar voice calls out from the entrance, and the tension that had been building in Gintoki’s chest suddenly melts away.

“You’re late, Shinpachi,” he calls back, doing his best to mask any relief in his voice with irritation.

“I had to run an errand for my sister,” Shinpachi says as he enters the living room. “Did we get a client or something?” 

“Well… No, not yet, but we might get one any minute now!” 

Shinpachi slams a hand into his forehead. “If we don’t have a client then why do you care if I’m late, dammit?” 

“Just ignore Gin-chan, he’s being weird today,” Kagura cuts in. 

Gintoki yawns again. “Can it, you two. It’s Shinpachi’s turn to make breakfast today, that’s why I was concerned with his tardiness.” 

A flash of moonlight glinting off a crimson blade floats to the forefront of Gintoki’s mind. He ignores it, and follows Shinpachi into the kitchen instead.

“Here, I’ll help you today,” Gintoki says gruffly. 

Shinpachi’s eyes widen in surprise. “Ah, thank you Gin-san! What brought this on?” 

“Can’t a man suddenly feel like doing a good deed every so often?” Gintoki jokes as he ties on his apron.

(He doesn’t mention that cooking is the perfect physical distraction for those times when his mind is not quite at rest.)

Shinpachi chuckles, (obliviously), and passes Gintoki a grocery bag full of vegetables.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as per usual, if you have any thoughts or questions feel free to leave a comment, or come visit me on tumblr @ [charmingstrangeness](http://charmingstrangeness.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

The second the bomb goes off, and Gintoki is sprinting down the tracks towards the bridge, driven by a strong sense of urgency. Forget the battle – his comrades, his friends, _the most important people in his life right now_ are on that train, in danger. Of course, that damnable Kawakami Bansai is blocking his path. Gintoki throws haphazard attacks and pushes forward.

_“Get out of my way!”_

Kawakami simply jumps back, and sets himself into an attacking stance. 

Men rush in from the sidelines, but Gintoki swipes at them with as much ease as swatting away a fly. “Get out of my way, dammit! I don’t have time to deal with idiots like you!” 

Kawakami is directly in front of him now. Gintoki slashes at his chest, but Kawakami dodges the blow with an elegant leap over Gintoki’s head. Gintoki ignores it; he knows he’s being baited into turning around, and frankly he can’t care less about fighting Kawakami right now when there are places he needs to be. Without pausing, his legs continue to carry him forward – until suddenly they don’t. There’s a sound of shamisen strings being pulled tight, and Gintoki is frozen in place. He tries to push forward, and is met with sharp pains in his arms and legs as the strings dig into him.

“You shouldn’t push yourself; your arms and legs will rip off. Even if you go to help now, it’s too late. Do you think your friends are still alive?” 

Gintoki grits his teeth. He’ll rip through the strings that bind him if he has to; nothing, nothing will stop him from making it to that wrecked train. He struggles to push forward, and the strings respond by cutting through his clothes and into his flesh.

“Aren’t you listening? Your arms and legs will rip off.”

Doesn’t Kawakami understand? His arms and legs are irrelevant. All that matters is making it to his friends—

Something whizzes by his ear, and the next thing he knows there’s a string digging into his neck, too.

“I told you already, it’s too late. You can’t protect them anymore.” 

Gintoki’s blood feels searing hot as it trickles down the front of his neck and drips onto the ground, and his brain finally understands what his body still hasn’t realized – at this rate, he’ll lose more than just his limbs if he keeps pushing forward. The pain encircling his limbs and neck only deepens, though; each string feels like a knife cutting into the skin of his wrists and ankles and arms and worst of all, his throat. 

He wants it to stop, God he just wants the pain to _stop,_  he wants to _back off,_ even just for a second, but his legs strain against their bindings in spite of himself. Desperate for retreat, his heart thrashes in his chest, and Gintoki squeezes his eyes shut and shifts all of his concentration onto stopping his disobedient body from carrying him to his own ruin, focuses on forcing his muscles to relax. He envisions the strings, the daggers that are biting into him lifting away, one by one. And slowly, _slowly,_  each point on his body that had been wrapped in those strings is suddenly released from the pain, all except for his neck – the pressure on his throat only grows stronger, as does the subconscious urge to move forward and protect what’s in front of him. There’s something there that he needs to defend, something with an even stronger pull than his dear friends, than the rest of the Yorozuya family—

Gintoki opens his eyes. 

Kawakami and his infernal strings are gone, replaced by a scene so familiar it almost feels like home. The pressure on his throat is coming from wooden staves held by robed figures. In front of him, there’s no helicopter, no train wreck, but rather a full moon hanging low in the sky and familiar figure in white walking away.

Walking past the point of no return.

“Shouyou-sensei!” Gintoki screams—

—and abruptly he’s back in his own room, drenched in a cold sweat. He lets out a long, shaky breath, touches his neck – _no blood no strings no staves_ – wills his heartbeat to slow down.

 _Three for three, huh._ And all with the same… _theme._ Gintoki almost wants to laugh – he can feel the mirth rising in his throat, but it’s a choked sob that falls from his mouth instead. 

 _Leave me alone,_  he wants to yell at his inner demons. _Let me rest. Let me_ live _._ He’s been vaguely curious about why all these long-completed battles have suddenly been returning to haunt him, but now he sees that it’s all just circling back to the usual trauma, the same old crap that normally torments him while he sleeps.

Gintoki doesn’t dream for the rest of the night, but he doesn’t exactly sleep well, either;  he tosses and turns on his futon, drifting in and out of consciousness, until finally the morning light begins to peek through the windows.

 

* * *

 

“Stop yawning, Gin-chan, you’re making me sleepy,” Kagura complains.

“What, you think I have control over how much I yawn or something?” Gintoki’s retort is punctuated by yet another yawn. “Dammit, there I go again. This is your fault for bringing it up,” he teases. 

(He knows full well it has nothing to do with Kagura, but maybe if he jokes about enough it he’ll forget the real reason he’s feeling so tired today.)

“It’s  _your_  fault for not sleeping enough,” Kagura counters. “I could hear you moving around when I got up to use the bathroom last night. You were being so noisy it took me ages to fall back asleep.” 

A pang of guilt shoots through Gintoki’s chest. “I couldn’t get comfortable on my futon, okay?” he lies half-heartedly. 

Kagura tilts her head, and Gintoki can see her brain working – observing, calculating, drawing conclusions. Anxiety claws at his guts, and he fights to keep a poker face; no way in hell is going to show any weakness in front of Kagura. She doesn’t need to know about his nightmares—

Gintoki yawns, interrupting his own train of thought, and Kagura shakes her head.

“Gin-chan… If you’re having trouble sleeping—” 

“I’m _not,_ ” he cuts her off. “I’m fine. I probably just need a new futon, that’s all. One that isn’t all lumpy, you know?” 

Kagura narrows her eyes and Gintoki can feel her gaze burning holes in his face. Finally, she looks away.

“Your head is what’s lumpy,” she grumbles, and Gintoki thinks he hears a _‘Stupid Gin-chan’_ tacked on to the end of that.

A soft sigh of relief morphs into a yawn, and Gintoki prays that she won’t pry into the matter any further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you have any thoughts i'd love to hear them – leave a comment below, or come visit me on tumblr @ [charmingstrangeness](http://charmingstrangeness.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ironically, i've been so tired recently it took me three days to write this chapter because i kept falling asleep in the middle of writing it lmao
> 
> also this chapter probably deserves a content warning for some freaky sleep paralysis shit towards the end so read with care

“A battle between hunters?” Jiraia smirks, and then drops. Time slows for a split second, and Gintoki watches the way he falls – quick, like a stone, but graceful, like a cat, and as perfectly controlled as a spider descending from the ceiling on a single strand of silk. And then suddenly the world is moving again, fast, _too_  fast; Gintoki feels like he has whiplash from the flow of time rebounding back into place. Or maybe it’s from the force of the blow that Gintoki only barely manages to parry. It feels like Jiraia is everywhere at once, and despite his best efforts Gintoki can’t quite keep up. His reflexes are a hair too slow, thanks to his injuries—

_—what injuries?_ He’s not injured. 

He’s not sure why he thought he was. 

The thought slips from his mind as Jiraia launches himself off one of his invisible threads, aiming a kick at Gintoki’s back. He can’t see Jiraia but he _knows_ it’s coming, so he shifts his weight and spins on the spot, catching Jiraia’s foot with both hands and twisting so he stumbles onto the ground.

_Got him._

Behind Jiraia, there’s a subtle gleam as moonlight hits one of the threads just right, and Gintoki doesn’t think about whether he can or can’t; he simply kicks off the ground and soars. It’s like he’s suspended from wires – he can twist his body freely in the air, and he feels fluid, like he’s made of water instead of skin and bones. His feet touch the thread and he rebounds back towards Jiraia, knocking him down with a hard kick just as he’s pulling himself back to his feet.

Using Jiraia’s web is easier than Gintoki would have expected, and he repeats the same pattern over and over again – flowing like quicksilver, pushing off threads, and smashing Jiraia into the ground with each hit. Jiraia seems to move in slow motion; Gintoki can see the strain against gravity in each of his movements.

A thought flashes through his head, briefly – _wasn’t Jiraia better than this?_  He lands another kick, and Jiraia doesn’t move an inch; he simply looks up, and locks eyes with Gintoki, and smiles. 

Ice cold fear washes down Gintoki’s spine, and he feels his body turn to lead. He drops out of the sky like a brick, and when he smashes into the floor Jiraia’s foot connects with his shoulder and he goes flying into Jiraia’s foot and goes flying again in the opposite direction, this time. 

It feels like Jiraia is everywhere at once, and despite his best efforts Gintoki can’t quite keep up. His reflexes are a hair too slow, thanks to his injuries from the fight at the docks. Every muscle, every nerve, every ounce of physical intuition he has is screaming at him to get out and get the advantage, so he scrambles towards the door, towards the moonlight.

“Do you intend to escape outside? Fool!” Jiraia launches himself towards Gintoki, and Gintoki responds by stopping hard in the doorway and raising his sword.

“You’re the fool.” 

His swing is powerful enough to bring Jiraia crashing into the floor and sending up a cloud of debris, and Gintoki half expects his hands to bruise from the force of the impact transmitted through his bokutou. There’s no time to dwell on it though – a single kunai flies out of the cloud of smoke and Gintoki barely raises a hand to protect his face on time. He catches the gleam of a thread tied to the kunai, and with a quick flick of his wrist the thread is wrapped around both of their wrists, effectively tying them together so neither can escape.

_“Gotcha.”_

Now that he’s not focused on fighting for his life, Gintoki can feel the anger burning through his veins, and he channels it all into a single strike of his sword – feels the hot rage coursing through the muscles of his arm and concentrate itself in his swing. One hit, then two, then three, and finally Jiraia parries, and the wooden katana is spinning through the air and clatters to the floor. 

Chests heaving, the two men stare at each other. Something feels off, to Gintoki – something about the situation feels wrong, even though everything is exactly as he remembers it—

_—how can he remember something that hasn’t already happened yet—_

—he feels like he’s forgotten the script _(life doesn’t have a script)_ so he does the only thing he can think of _(something is wrong something is off something is wrong wrong wrong)_ and scowls at Jiraia, the coward who dared call himself anyone’s master. 

“You don’t have the strength to shoulder a student and their pain,” Gintoki snarls. 

“And you don’t have the strength to shoulder your master’s burden,” Shouyou answers calmly.

Gintoki jerks backwards, but the thread tying their hands together is lengthening, snaking itself up their forearms and wrapping around their torsos and trapping them in place. Shouyou leans forward with an eerie grin, and Gintoki leans back as far as he can but Shouyou’s hand still flies to his neck in an instant, and strong fingers wrap around Gintoki’s throat.

He wheezes.

“You made the wrong choice.” 

Shouyou squeezes his hand, and Gintoki’s eyes snap open.

_Another dr—_

“Did you really think my death would save anyone?” 

Gintoki is undoubtably laying on his futon in his room, and yet Shouyou’s voice rings clear as day in his ears and there’s a presence behind him – Gintoki can’t see it, but he can sense the shadow leaning over his futon, feel the ends of Shouyou’s hair draping across his shoulder and tickling the back of his neck. His reflexes push him to flip over but his body doesn’t respond.

One set of alarm bells begin to ring in Gintoki’s head.

He takes a deep breath, only he doesn’t – it feels like trying to breathe through a pillow, or a thick blanket, except that his face is perfectly uncovered so _why_  does it feel like someone is smothering him?

Across the room, something shifts in the darkness, and a second set of alarm bells go off in his mind. Gintoki doesn’t want to look, doesn’t want to see the bright smile grinning at him from the shadows, but he physically cannot tear his eyes away or even close them. A pair of eyes opens above that disembodied grin, and Gintoki can only stare in increasing horror as the floor tilts and the apparition slides towards him.

And just as Gintoki wonders if he’s still dreaming, his throat suddenly opens, and he’s sucking in air freely and greedily, and all of the night terrors are gone; there’s no face, no Shouyou-presence leaning over him, and he’s awake, he’s definitely awake and he can _move_ again, thank _fucking_ God, so he curls up his limbs and tugs his blankets around himself just a little tighter and squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the pounding in his chest to slow. The dream wasn’t so bad in and of itself but the aftermath, whatever the fuck _that_ was… Gintoki shudders.

Unsurprisingly, sleep does not come easily. Every time Gintoki tries to relax, the back of his neck prickles like he’s being watched. After a solid half hour of trying and failing to fall back asleep, he comes to the conclusion that he just can’t be in his own room tonight. Hopefully he’ll fare better out on the couch.

Getting up doesn’t exactly come easily either, though – he knows it’s irrational but he’s afraid to move through the room, as if whatever (nonexistent) terrors will be able to get him if he gets up. He can’t stay in his room either, though, so he gathers up his courage and his blanket and half-sprints out into the living room, taking care to open and close his door quietly so as to not disturb Kagura. 

Once he’s all settled in on the couch, he curls up and finally, _finally_ drifts off into a light and fitful sleep. 

 

* * *

 

“Gin-san…” Shinpachi’s voice is hesitant, and Gintoki’s heart plummets into his stomach. He knows exactly what Shinpachi is going to ask.

“Pattsuan, I’m fine.” He does his best to sound reassuring. “I told Kagura yesterday, I just need a new futon, that’s all.”

Shinpachi frowns. “She told me you slept on the couch last night.” 

“Because I couldn’t get comfortable on my futon,” Gintoki yawns, although the fact that Shinpachi doesn’t buy his excuse may as well be tattooed across the boy’s forehead.

“We’re just a little concerned, that’s all. You’ve been so exhausted the past few days…” 

Something warm and fuzzy wraps itself around Gintoki’s heart at the sound of the worry in Shinpachi’s voice, although it’s quickly replaced by a squeeze of anxiety because as much as he appreciates that they care so much, he really doesn’t want to cause them any trouble. Especially not over something as stupid as a few silly nightmares. 

“I’m tired but I’ll live,” Gintoki waves a hand nonchalantly, and, after a short pause, adds a quick “you two worry too much” for good measure. “We haven’t had a job in a few days anyways, so does it really matter right now, right?” 

“Ah, I guess it’s fine as long as we don’t have work…” Despite his words, Shinpachi’s eyebrows draw together and a small crease appears between them. It irks Gintoki — worry creases are out of place on sixteen-year-old boys, and he has to actively stop himself from reaching over and smoothing it out. “If we do get work though, Kagura and I can handle it. At least until you rest up a bit.” Gintoki opens his mouth to protest, but Shinpachi cuts him off. “Don’t argue with me on this one, Gin-san. Let us do something for you every once in a while, okay?” 

Gintoki lets out a defeated sigh that quickly turns into a yawn. “Okay, okay, fine. But just until I buy a new futon, okay? And only if I’m actually _that_ tired. I can still work just fine.” 

Shinpachi shakes his head fondly, but doesn’t press the matter any further, and Gintoki feels some of the tension in his shoulders release. He knows that Shinpachi knows that he’s trying not to let on just how exhausted he is; he’s long past believing that he can hide anything from the kids. That won't stop him from downplaying his feelings when things gets bad, though – he hates the idea of bothering them with his cocktail of emotional baggage, and this time around all he needs is one night’s good sleep and he’ll be fine, so there legitimately isn’t anything to be concerned about in the first place. 

And so what if he’s slightly anxious when he thinks about having to go to sleep tonight? So what if he’s been wondering on and off all day what hell his brain will put him through tonight? That’s just the fatigue talking; he’ll probably sleep just fine tonight, and tomorrow he’ll wake up refreshed and the kids will stop worrying about him and they’ll get a job and everything will be _fine._

_(…right?)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly i'd be lying if i said this chapter didn't turn into me lowkey venting about my own sleep issues 
> 
> *shrugs loudly*
> 
> anyways if you've got any thoughts or questions i'd love to hear them <3 feel free to leave a comment or come say on tumblr @ [charmingstrangeness](http://charmingstrangeness.tumblr.com/)


	5. Chapter 5

The thrill of adrenaline coursing through Gintoki’s system has him locked into his senses; the world looks sharper and more detailed, and it feels like he can hear every minute sound, and smell every molecule of air. Each tiny detail in his environment builds up into a single piece of warrior’s intuition – the man he is facing, the so-called Galaxy Sword Master, is _strong._ Gintoki widens his stance.

There’s a shift in the air pressure and suddenly Obi-one is shooting towards him, swinging his beam sabre forward in a silent charge. Involuntarily, Gintoki grins in anticipation. 

The beam sabre lands against two crossed swords, and Gintoki watches Obi-one’s face twitch in displeasure as he holds back the attack. His own smile only widens. It all feels so familiar – the distant memories of a long-gone war are etched onto his very soul, after all, and he lets them take control of his body, hands over the reigns to the Shiroyasha. He has to, if he wants to stay alive against Obi-one. The only way to win this fight will be to cut himself loose.

(Luckily, it’s not like he has very much left to lose at this point, anyways.)

Even so, it’s a difficult fight. Obi-one is a ruthless opponent, keeping Gintoki almost constantly on the defensive and providing almost no openings for a counterattack. Gintoki grits his teeth as he twists his body out of the way of a feint, but the sabre is just a touch too long and a line of pain explodes on his waist where it grazes him. It’s not much of a wound, but it hurts far more than a sword. Stumbling backwards, Gintoki lifts his swords to parry yet again—

—his heel catches on a loose rock and his stomach drops as he begins to fall backwards. Time slows to a crawl and Gintoki watches in painful detail as Obi-one launches his sabre forward a fraction of a second faster than Gintoki can regain his balance. The beam goes right through his torso and Gintoki is thrown back against a the wall behind him.

It feels like he’s on fire, burning up from within.

Gintoki slumps against the wall. He’s in pain – that first cut was nothing compared to this – but he forces himself to look up anyways, look directly into Obi-one’s eyes as the man walks towards him.

“Thirty minutes,” he says. “It’ll be thirty minutes before my system recovers. There’s only one way to stop the beam cannon before that happens.” He leans in close. “You’ll have to destroy me.” 

Gintoki watches, helpless, as Obi-one lifts his hand. It begins to glow.

“I’ll be sending your little brother and this planet to see you shortly. You can wait in hell for them.” 

Gintoki closes his eyes.

And then there’s a horrible, _sickening_ metallic crunch, and Gintoki’s eyes fly open – the hand that had been pointed at him, ready to fire a beam right at his head, is gone. He turns to look, and it takes a beat to process what he’s seeing, but his eyes widen in shock as he realizes.

“Shinpa—” 

Gintoki’s cry is cut off as Shinpachi aims a strike at Obi-one’s shoulder, only for Obi-one to catch the blade before it can connect.

A sharp _crack_ echoes through the room.

“Why would you come here,” Obi-one snaps off the broken tip of the sword, _“when it’s already too late?!”_ In a flash, he’s thrusting the broken blade right at the centre of Shinpachi’s forehead.

Whatever pain Gintoki was feeling is suddenly gone, dissipated in the fraction of a second it took for Obi-one to attack Shinpachi. He rips the beam sabre out of his own body and slashes forward mindlessly. Obi-one topples backwards in slow motion, and seconds later there’s a dull thunk as his head lands on the ground a few feet away from his now-lifeless body.

Before Gintoki can ask if Shinpachi is okay, the question on the tip of his tongue is cut off by a distressed shout.

_“Hajime-nii!”_

Without sparing a glance for Gintoki, Shinpachi rushes forward and kneels beside Obi-one’s body, gathers it into his arms.

“Hajime…” 

Shinpachi’s shoulders begin to shake, and teardrops splatter the ground.

Gintoki steps forward to – to what? Offer words of comfort? Apologize for decapitating Shinpachi’s beloved older brother figure? His knees buckle instead, and he hits the floor hard.

Shinpachi looks up from where he’s cradling Hajime’s body – looks directly at Gintoki. Gintoki’s stomach drops.

_No, no no nononono._

Tears trail down dusty cheeks, leaving glistening tracks in their wake. Snot drips from his nose; he sniffs it back. Worst of all are his eyes, though – they’re forlorn, sorrowful, and everything a sixteen-year-old’s eyes should never be.

“I…” Gintoki begins, and trails off, not knowing how to finish that sentence.

His limbs begin to feel numb. 

Shinpachi sniffs again. “Weren’t you… going to protect him?” 

There’s no anger in the accusation, but somehow that makes it worse.

“I’m… sorry…” 

The words feel dry and brittle as they fall from Gintoki's lips. Like sawdust. 

Shinpachi opens his mouth hesitantly, then seems to think better of whatever he had to say and squeezes his eyes shut and turns his head away. 

There’s no fury, no malice… but no forgiveness, either, and it hurts. Gintoki's entire body is radio static, except for his heart, which burns with the fire of more than a thousand beam sabres tearing through it all it once.

Hajime’s lifeless eyes stare at Gintoki. Meanwhile, Shinpachi still won’t look at him. 

“I knew…” Shinpachi mumbles. Gintoki isn’t sure he’s meant to hear it. “I knew one of you would die, tonight. I just wish—” 

Gintoki covers his ears. He doesn’t want to hear the end of that sentence. 

_I just wish_

Shinpachi’s voice is in his head, clear as day. Gintoki shakes his head to get rid of it. He doesn’t want to hear this. He knows where this is going and he doesn’t want to hear it.

_that Hajime-nii_

No, no, I know, but no, still no—

_had been_

NO!

_the one to_

god please don’t say it dontsayit _dontsayit—_

Gintoki’s eyes snap open.

Recognition is instant – he’s in his room, the fight had been a dream _it was all a dream._

The insecurities it dredged up are not a dream, though. 

Dwelling on the past is not Gintoki’s _modus operandi._ The past is the past, and regretting it is pointless because it can’t be changed.

(But God… if there was one thing he could change…)

He knows he didn’t kill Hajime with his own hands, not like how he killed Shouyou, but he may as well have, seeing as he’d failed at his mission to save him. This is a fact that Gintoki is acutely aware of, and always has been. He wants to believe it’s only on his mind because of the dream, but he knows damn well it’s always there, lurking below the surface – the fear that Shinpachi and Kagura will one day figure out just how much better off they’ll be without him. Because honestly… why would they ever choose him over their own families? 

(Why would Shinpachi ever want him around if there was a choice between him and Hajime?)

He doesn’t fall back asleep, this time. He tries, but every time he closes his eyes all he can see is the flash of a beam sabre and a pair of glassy, dead eyes. And so he gives up, eventually, and makes tea at God-only-knows what hour of the morning, and takes it back to his bedroom so that Kagura won’t find him when she wakes up.

 

* * *

 

The sound of the phone ringing is earsplitting, and Gintoki has half a mind to chuck it across the room like an alarm clock. He answers it instead, though, because the promise of work – the promise of a distraction from whatever hell his brain is stringing him through right now – is worth far more than ruining their only working telephone.

“Hello?” he growls, and winces when he notices Shinpachi and Kagura sharing a look out of the corner of his eye. Shit, he’s supposed to be pretending he’s fine right now, not worrying them any further. Some kind of crappy parental-slash-brother-figure-slash-guardian he is. Gintoki closes his eyes and sighs, which turns int a yawn.

“Sakata-san? Is that okay?” 

Oh, right. He’s on the phone.

“Sure, sure, of course it’s fine. When and where do you need us, again?” 

“Meet me at the O-edo Mart in south Kabukichou tomorrow at 11am sharp. Don’t forget a hammer.” 

“Okay yeah sure, got it.” Gintoki yawns into the phone. “See you tomorrow, then.” 

“I’ll see you then.” There’s a sharp click from the other line, and Gintoki unceremoniously drops the phone back into the receiver with a clatter. 

He yawns again, and stretches his arms back behind his head, and when he looks back up Kagura and Shinpachi are both staring at him.

“…What.” 

They share an infuriatingly meaningful look, and then Shinpachi begins, carefully, “What’s the job, Gin-san?” 

“Oh, it’s… uh…” Gintoki wracks his brain for any part of the conversation that may have been picked up subconsciously, but draws a blank. “A repair job?” The person on the other line did say to bring a hammer, after all.

“What are we repairing?” Kagura asks, almost _too_  casually.

Gintoki swallows hard. “We’re meeting at O-edo Mart, south Kabukichou location, at eleven tomorrow morning. With hammers.” 

“That didn’t answer her question, Gin-san,” Shinpachi says pointedly. “Actually, it raises even more. But that’s no matter; we know you’re tired.” 

Kagura nods in agreement. “So we’ll take the job tomorrow, okay Gin-chan? You can stay home and get some rest.” 

“What?!” Something decidedly dreadful claws at Gintoki’s guts. “Of course I’d come with you, though.” They’re the Yorozuya; they do work _together._ Well, mostly together. Not always. It’s probably not that big a deal if he stays home this once.

(So then, why does the suggestion feel like the end of the world, somehow? Why does he feel so _threatened?)_

“Gin-san, you promised me yesterday that you wouldn’t push yourself.” There’s something horribly, familiarly disappointing in Shinpachi’s voice, and Gintoki sees the darkness of an abandoned building and tear tracks on dirt-smudged cheeks and hollow, lifeless eyes staring at him from the ground.

(Oh, so  _that’s_  why.)

Rationally, Gintoki knows that the current situation has nothing to do whatsoever with that dream or with any of his past actions, and that Shinpachi and Kagura are probably just worried about his health and not mad at him, or finally trying to break free from him. However, the rational part of his brain is currently locked up under no less that sixty layers of fatigue and insecurity, and all it takes is the simple thought of _but what if they are_ to set Gintoki’s heart hammering away in a frenzy of panic.

“I’m not pushing myself! I know my limits, Pattsuan, and I haven’t passed them yet,” he insists, because forget his health – the only thing he needs right now is for their tiny family to be _whole._

“Gin-san, you zoned out so hard on the phone that you don’t even know what this job is!” Shinpachi’s face twists into a frown, and Gintoki’s heart plummets into his stomach. “Meet at O-edo Mart? Is that where we’re doing the work, or do we need to buy supplies? Are we buying the supplies or is the client? And bring a hammer? What are we even _doing_ tomorrow?!” Gintoki cringes as Shinpachi’s voice reaches the height of its crescendo. How can such a skinny twig of a kid get so damn _loud?_

“Come on, does it even matter that much? We’ll figure it out when we get there.” Gintoki waves a hand in what he hopes is a casual fashion – it’s hard to tell when his entire body is caught in the icy grip of anxiety. “It’ll be fine, just you wait and—” 

“It _won’t_ be fine though. _You_  won’t be fine.” Shinpachi grits his teeth. “Just _let us do this for you, okay!?”_  

“Do this _for_ me? I’m an adult, Shinpachi _-kun,_ I can take care of myself, you know. I can do the job.” _Let me come with you. Don’t separate us, not now. Don’t leave me behind._

_(don’t push me away I need you right now—)_

“Alright then, Mister Adult, _Sakata-san,”_ Shinpachi practically spits out the name, and there’s hurt written across his face, and Gintoki suddenly realizes exactly how his words have been misconstrued.

“Sh-shinpachi, wait—” 

“Since you’re so great at taking care of yourself…” 

_That’s not what I meant Shinpachi wait Shinpachi WAIT—_

“…then you can have this job alone.” And then he stands up and heads for the door.

“Shinpachi, that’s— damnit _you know that’s not what I meant!”_

His plea is met with the sound of the front door gently sliding shut. 

_What a good kid, he didn’t even slam it,_ Gintoki thinks as he slumps forward onto his desk with his head in his hands.

Silence reigns for a few minutes as Gintoki dwells on the fact that his attempt to keep the three of them together just backfired spectacularly – which, if he’s honest with himself, he should have seen that coming, but he’s just. He’s just so _tired,_ damnit, he’s just too tired for this – but finally Kagura interrupts his spiralling thoughts.

“…Gin-chan.” 

He can tell she’s trying to hide the hesitation in her voice.

“What,” he says, flatly. 

“I’m gonna take Sadaharu for a walk now. And as for the job… we can make a decision tomorrow.” 

“Yeah… okay.” He nods.

The silence is even louder after Kagura leaves. Gintoki flips on the TV, but he barely even hears it over the twin pits of emptiness and dread that have dug themselves into his gut.

_This is stupid,_ he thinks. _I haven’t_ really _gone and ruined everything._

Thoroughly unconvinced by his own rational mind, Gintoki stares at the TV and tries his best to not think about how the hell he’s supposed to fall asleep tonight after all of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fatigue and deep-seated insecurities are a bad combination
> 
> anyways if you've got any thoughts or questions, as always i'd love to hear them <3 feel free to leave a comment, or drop by on tumblr @ [charmingstrangeness](charmingstrangeness.tumblr.com)


	6. Chapter 6

He stares, unblinking, at the ceiling – watches a spider make its way dutifully from one corner to another, studies a hairline crack that runs down the midline of the room, follows the swirling patterns of lights that his eyes are creating in their fatigue…

He wonders when sleep will find him.

Eventually, the rising sun filters through the window, throwing dramatic swaths of light and shadow across the furniture and the walls, and Gintoki gets his answer – it doesn’t.

* * *

 

Kagura doesn’t mention it when he burns the rice intended for breakfast, and when he zones out with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth all she does is call his name until he phases back into wakefulness. Gintoki appreciates it – at least, he thinks he does; it’s uncomfortable, all this walking on eggshells to avoid drawing attention to how tired he is, but he’s not sure what he’d do if she confronted him on it directly, either. God knows it’ll be hard enough to deal with that mess when Shinpachi arrives.

Only, as it turns out, it’s not quite so difficult after all.

“Good morning, Gin-san,” Shinpachi greets him with a smile. “How are you feeling this morning? Did you sleep okay?”

Gintoki’s eyes widen in surprise – he hadn’t expected Shinpachi to broach the subject so directly, or in such a gentle tone of voice, for that matter.

“I’m…” he hesitates. He doesn’t want to admit out loud that he’s almost certainly in no condition to do a job today, but on the other hand he hasn’t slept in over twenty-four hours, either…

“Gin-san… I’m not going to tell you what to do,” Shinpachi begins, “but I really do think you should sit today’s job out. It’s not that I don’t think you’re capable… I just want you to take care of yourself.”

Gintoki almost has to squint because the kindness in Shinpachi’s voice is shining brighter than the goddamn sun itself, which doesn’t make sense because _voices don’t shine, you idiot,_ and God he must be tired if this is where his brain his going—

“Gin-san?” Shinpachi is looking at him expectantly. “Please… We just want you to be okay.”

“He’s right, Gin-chan,” Kagura adds. “Let us do this for you.”

And just how, exactly, is he supposed to say no to faces like that? Those innocent, imploring eyes? Gintoki sighs, defeated. “Fine, fine, I’ll stay home and rest up… But you two better call if you need help with the job, okay? Don’t try and do it on your own if it’s too much. And…” he hesitates for half a second, then musters his most exaggerated, clearly-I’m-just-joking-around tone of voice— “…come back right away after the job is done, okay? Ole’ Gin-san gets lonely sometimes.” He silently prays they won’t see the fear behind the fond smile he’s wearing. They exhange a glance, and there’s a brief flash of anxiety in the pit of Gintoki’s stomach as he wonders if maybe they took him seriously after all, but then they smile in tandem and relief courses through his veins.

“What are you, a lost puppy?” Kagura rolls her eyes, but she’s still grinning. “Fiiiine, I _guess_ we can come back and keep you company or something.”

“We’ll have to update you on how the job went, so don’t worry okay? We’ll be back in no time.”

Gintoki nods, and then yawns, and then the next thing he knows two pair of hands are shoving him unceremoniously onto one of the couches.

“Make sure you sleep, okay?” Shinpachi calls, and then the front door slides shut and there’s only quiet.

A quiet that quickly becomes uneasy. A silence so heavy it’s unsettlingly _loud_ , and Gintoki can practically hear hs own nerves grating themselves to shreds.

He switches on the TV.

The background noise makes being alone in the apartment slightly more bearable, but there’s still a certain restless air about the place…

_It’s no use._

Sighing, Gintoki reaches for the TV remote and raises the volume just a touch. He’ll stay put on this couch for Shinpachi and Kagura’s sakes (he made a promise, after all, or at the very least he may as well have – his memory banks are a bit too fuzzy right now to pick out any details of the past few days), but that doesn’t mean he needs to die of boredom either. Closing his eyes, he lets the newscaster’s monotonous voice wash over him; having resigned himself to the bleak future of probably never sleeping again, Gintoki knows it’s now time to settle in and wait for the kids to return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was a long wait for such a short chapter, i apologize - september was wildly busy for me but hopefully the next update will come a bit sooner ahhh
> 
> huge thank you to everyone who's left comments & kudos so far - knowing that there are people out there enjoying this fic & looking forward to updates has been a huuuuuge motivator to kick my own ass into gear and find the time to write <3
> 
> speaking of comments i absolutely adore hearing your thoughts, so feel free to leave a comment here or on tumblr @ [charmingstrangeness](http://charmingstrangeness.tumblr.com/)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhhhhhhhhello folks i have returned, finally, with the conclusion of this, The Fic That Got Far Too Out Of Hand. thank you for bearing with me despite it being literal months since my last update (tldr Life Got Busy), and thank you for all your comments and support on previous chapters <3 
> 
> enjoy this final chapter~

The noise of war is everywhere, there’s so much _noise_ – it’s all-encompassing; it’s caught in Gintoki’s ears and his brain and his very bones. There’s a rushing sound as blood spurts from the man’s throat when he collapses into the mud, but Gintoki doesn’t have time to dwell on it – not when there’s another one of those Naraku bastards waiting to take him down, and another just past the first, and another, and another—

He hears a scream from behind him – Takasugi, he thinks, and moving on instinct he turns and cuts his way towards where his friend is.

(He knows, somewhere, that turning around is a mistake, turning around is what gets him caught and what gets Shouyou killed, but even if his subconscious mind knows how this memory will go, it knows just as well that changing the course of this scene will not change the course of history.)

And so Gintoki turns around, despite every one of instincts telling him _not_ to, because his friend is in trouble, and he moves towards him – cuts down a man and another and another and each one falls bleeding to the ground, eyes staring at the sky, or maybe at the demon who killed them.

_“Gintoki! Get away!!! **RUN!!!** ”_

He can see Takasugi now, struggling against rope bonds, and in the fraction of a second that it takes for Gintoki to process what he’s seeing, he feels his own arms being pinned to his body. Ropes coil like snakes around his body, but no matter how hard he fights it he can’t get loose – he’s caught like a fly in a spider’s web.

They throw him to the ground and the rough dirt presses into his cheek – he tries to look up but there’s nothing to see, just am empty cliff’s edge in front of him.

(He knows, somewhere, that this is not how the memory goes, but who is he to fight the whims of a dream?)

Behind him, Takasugi curses, and Katsura pleads, and behind them there’s a presence – Gintoki can feel it, he can see it— He approaches, the white demon himself. Or maybe it’s the red-with-blood demon, or the dirtied-with-mud demon, or perhaps it’s just a murderer with unnaturally silver hair.

Footsteps crunch as they grow closer to where Gintoki kneels in the dirt, and pleading sobs rip from his friends’ mouths, and every hair on Gintoki’s body raises as shivers run up and down his spine. He turns his head back to look—

Crimson eyes, dark with fatigue. His own eyes.

Gintoki knows what comes next – the word passes his lips on a breath, hangs in the air.

“Thanks.”

The Shiroyasha smiles. His eyes water.

He swings.

(There’s screaming, someone is screaming.)

Gintoki opens his eyes.

He’s laying on his back with Kagura and Shinpachi leaning over him, sharing matching concerned expressions. Gintoki lets out a sigh – silly of him to cause them worry them like this.

“I’m sorry,” he says, lifting his arm to reach for them. “I’m here.”

Shinpachi sniffs sadly, and Kagura squeezes her eyes shut. Scalding tears splash onto his face.

“Don’t cry, Kagura,” he says, lifting his arm to reach for her. “I’m here, it’s okay.”

“Goodbye, Gin-chan.”

“Kagura, I’m here!”

“Gin-san, I…” Shinpachi looks lost, _hopeless._

Gintoki lifts his arm to reach for him. “I’m _here_.”

Shinpachi looks away and breaks into loud ugly sobs.

Gintoki lifts his arm—

He lifts—

He—

…

Gintoki’s arms don’t move from his sides, they haven’t left his sides. He can’t move them, they won’t move.

His pulse quickens.

“Pattsuan! Kagura!”

His voice shatters into dust before it can so much as leave his throat. Above him, the kids lean back, and the lid of the coffin he’s laying in slowly begins to swing shut.

“Kagura!!! _Shinpachi!_ ”

“Goodbye, Gin.”

The last sliver of light disappears, and Gintoki is left alone in his box.

“No!!!”

The scream is _loud_ , and it tears through his throat like a knife. His arms move now, and he raises them to beat on the underside of the lid.

“Hey!! Come back!!! Shinpachi!!!! Kagura!!!!”

They need to come back. He’s still alive, he’s _still alive,_ and they’ve left him—

“Help!!! I’m still here!!! Anybody!!!!”

He claws at the wood in desperation, scratches and pounds with his fist until his hands are raw. Blood drips down his wrist – he doesn’t care.

“Help me!!!”

There’s a sharp _crack_ and a split appears above him in the wood. Gintoki cackles in elation – he can do this, he can get out of here. He doubles his efforts, focusing on the weakness in his prison.

“I’m alive!!! Come back—”

The lid collapses inward, and dirt mixed with maggots tumble onto him from above.

Gintoki screams and sits bolt upright.

He’s on the couch, not in his bed – he’s woken up, but has he? Could it be another dream? After so many nights of so many horrible nightmares, can he really trust himself to wake up?

His breath is heaving, and he can feel the adrenaline, just like when he usually wakes up, but—

“Gin… chan…?”

Kagura is looking up from a copy of Jump, and Shinpachi is behind her with a matsui stick, having halted whatever cleaning he was doing to turn and stare at him. Both of their mouths are hanging open just a little bit, and all three of the Yorozuya team are frozen in place.

Time stops.

And then Kagura’s finger twitches in preparation to put down the magazine, and the spell is broken, and sirens start blaring in Gintoki’s head. Panic floods his body, his entire being – they can’t, they absolutely _cannot_ see him like this. He’s vulnerable and terrified and not entirely sure if he’s even awake or if anything is real and all Gintoki knows is that he needs to be _away_ and _out of their sight_ , immediately.

He’s up in a flash, bolting for the door. A blanket he doesn’t remember covering himself with slips off his body and tangles in his legs – he kicks it to the side and presses onward.

The blanket lost him some time, though, and Kagura is _fast_ – the girl is practically made of reflexes, damn her, and her tackle has Gintoki on his knees well before he can so much as get in range of the door.

“Shinpachi, snap out of it and help me!”

Shinpachi starts – the whole chase happened so quickly, he’d still been standing still the whole time – and rushes towards them.

Meanwhile, Gintoki struggles against Kagura’s brute strength, but she’s got him pinned, and as soon as Shinpachi adds his own strength there’s no hope of getting away. So Gintoki does the only thing he can think of – he curls into the fetal position to the best of his ability and pretends that maybe, just maybe, if he’s still enough, they’ll let him go.

Of course they don’t – instead, he feels a hand running gently through his hair, and someone somewhere whispers, “It’s okay, it was just a dream.”

He curls in on himself even further. He wants to let himself be comforted, but he can’t – he can’t let his guard down. If this safety net gets ripped away from him because it turns out to be another product of his shitty mind… There’s no way he can take that, not right now.

“Gin-san, it’s us. We’re here.”

_But how do I know?_ he thinks. _How do I know this isn’t another nightmare?_

“It’s not, Gin-san. You have to trust us.”

Ah, shit. Had he said that out loud?

His thought is interrupted, however, by the sudden pain of someone’s fist connecting with his upper arm.

“Kagura-chan!!! _What are you doing?!?!?!”_

“You can’t feel pain in dreams, so you gotta punch people to make sure they’re not dreaming!”

“ _Pinch,_ Kagura-chan, you’re supposed to pinch people!”

Gintoki can’t see their faces, but he knows exactly what they must look like right now; Shinpachi will be wearing that half-exasperated half-horrified look he gets when one of them does something stupid, and Kagura will have that self-satisfied expression – he can hear it in their voices.

He relaxes, just a little. “Bullshit. I’ve felt pain in my dreams before – that puts your theory out the window,” he says lightly, testing the waters.

She laughs, and it’s the best sound Gintoki’s heard in weeks. “No it doesn’t, that just means I’ll have to punch you harder!”

One of the hands pinning him down disappears in tandem with Shinpachi’s shout of _Kagura-chan don’t you dare,_ and a hint of a smile tugs at the corner of Gintoki’s lips. He catches her fist with his hand when it lands – _see, Kagura, you’re not the only one with fast reflexes_ – and as much as it hurts his palm, he can tell she was pulling her punch. In the process of his reaction, he’s unfurled himself enough to see their faces. Shinpachi catches his eye, and those brown eyes immediately soften.

“Gin-san, if you were having nightmares—”

Gintoki cuts him off. “I know, I know. I learned my lesson, alright?”

“Just tell us next time, ‘kay?” Kagura flicks him in the centre of the forehead.

“Yeah, yeah, I will,” he grumbles without resentment, and for the first time in a week the whole situation feels _silly_ more than anything –  _look, see how the world has not, in fact, ended on account of night terrors. See how the kids don’t care about your weaknesses._

“Anyways, the job paid really well, so we brought you something,” Shinpachi says as he stands.

“Yes, finally!” Kagura bounces back on her heels with excitement. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up since we got home, Gin-chan!”

“Have you now?” Gintoki smiles wryly as he picks himself up off the floor. While he and Kagura get comfortable on the couches, Shinpachi disappears into the kitchen, then emerges balancing three bowls of chocolate ice cream on his hands.

Gintoki’s face breaks into a wide grin. “You two are the best, you know that?”

They answer with grins of their own, and a split second later the Yorozuya apartment is echoing with peals of laughter.

 

* * *

 

That night, Gintoki falls into a deep, dreamless sleep with ease, and when he wakes up in the morning the world feels bright and fresh and _good_ —

He breathes deeply, stretches his back, and heads out of his room to start preparing breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! if you've got any final thoughts or questions, as always you can leave a comment here, or you can find me on tumblr @ [charmingstrangeness](http://charmingstrangeness.tumblr.com/) or on twitter [@madameforeman](https://twitter.com/madameforeman)
> 
> i have a handful of ongoing WIPs for gintama, so if you like my writing you can look forward to seeing more from me at some point :D
> 
> thanks again to everyone for sticking through this with me~


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